


Savouring This Heart That's Healing

by LaynaVile



Series: Twitter Thread Fics [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cold/Flu Medication, Dubious Consent, Feelings, First Kiss, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, M/M, Medicated Hannibal Lecter, Pining, Sick Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, Will Helps Hannibal With A Delicate Situation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:53:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26627827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaynaVile/pseuds/LaynaVile
Summary: Hannibal has gone through nearly an entire box of kleenex.He's grabbing a new box when Will let's himself in. "Oh my, Dr. Lecter, tough day?"Hannibal lies quickly--not wanting to give away how awful he feels, "Many tough topics were discussed." His voice is rough and thick with mucus.Will hums and takes his seat, Hannibal follows suit, placing the kleenex onto the table next to him. "You haven't needed any of those kleenex?" Will's tone is full of accusations--he knows."And if I have?""If you have then I'd wager you're sick and you don't strike me as someone who does well when sick."
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Twitter Thread Fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1926742
Comments: 18
Kudos: 134





	Savouring This Heart That's Healing

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a Twitter Thread Fic, but it got way, way outta hand.
> 
> \--
> 
> Set before Mizumono and after Will has resumed his therapy--so Will still believes Abigail is dead but wants Hannibal regardless. Hannibal being Hannibal mentions her but does not reveal the truth.
> 
> \--
> 
> This was supposed to just be angsty and sad and sick Hannibal and Will taking care of him but taking advantage of Hannibal's medicated state--but Hannibal wanting it. But then they were like nah, feelings and the end turned fluffy.
> 
> \--
> 
> As always no beta, so all mistakes are my own.
> 
> \--
> 
> Enjoy😌

Hannibal doesn't get sick. He hasn't had so much as a sniffle in years, so when he wakes up congested and achy, he's reasonably confused. He doesn't want to get out of bed, he has the chills and cannot breathe through his nose. But he must rise, he has patients to see--one of which being Will, and Hannibal is not willing to miss even a single  _ conversation _ with Will.

He drags himself out of bed and into the bathroom. He checks his temperature before showering--the digital display reads one hundred and one point one. He really should call and cancel his appointments, instead he turns the shower on--the temperature tepid and better for his fever. His movements are sluggish as he washes himself.

He doesn't understand  _ why now _ he is sick, who exposed him? Why now have the germs decided to attack him? He makes it to his office nearly a half hour late--thankfully he doesn't schedule appointments before nine. He doesn't speak much during his appointments, choosing to let his patients blather on and on. Midway through the morning he begins to sneeze and cough--luckily for him, he is between patients. He considers running to a pharmacy and purchasing some type of cold or flu medication, but decides against it.

He cannot pinpoint what specifically ails him and does not wish to take the incorrect medicine. He makes it though all of his appointments, and seven pm is approaching quickly--Hannibal's favorite not-patient will be arriving soon. Hannibal is feeling worse progressively as the day has gone on, he cannot say for sure but he believes his fever may have increased, and he's positively exhausted. By the time Will arrives, Hannibal has gone through nearly an entire box of kleenex.

He's grabbing a new box when Will let's himself in. "Oh my, Dr. Lecter, tough day?"

Hannibal lies quickly--not wanting to give away how awful he feels, "Many tough topics were discussed." His voice is rough and thick with mucus.

Will hums and takes his seat, Hannibal follows suit, placing the kleenex onto the table next to him. "You haven't needed any of those kleenex?" Will's tone is full of accusations--he  _ knows _ .

"And if I have?"

"If you  _ have _ then I'd wager you're sick and you don't strike me as someone who does well when sick."

"What do you mean by that, Will?"

"Being sick means being vulnerable, and you don't seem the type to let their vulnerability show."

"I've not been sick in years, I admit it's a bit of a shock, but not your concern. You're not here to diagnose or treat me." Hannibal resists the urge to sniffle as he speaks.

"No, I suppose I'm not here for that, but tell me, doctor, why didn't you cancel?"

"I have a twenty-four hour cancelation policy." Hannibal replies haughtily.

Will outright laughs at that, "Of course, however could I have forgotten? Tell me, though, how do you feel?" There is genuine concern in Will's tone.

"I've been better, but I am fine."

"Don't lie to me, Dr. Lecter, you look as if you're two minutes from passing out."

"I assure you, I am," Hannibal's words are cut off by a cough, followed by another and another until he can barely breathe.

Will jumps from his chair and rushes to get him some water.

He brings the glass to Hannibal's lips, helping him drink. Will's hand rests on his back between his shoulders, gently stroking--soothing.

Hannibal likes it more than is professionally acceptable--he's already crossed many lines where Will is concerned, perhaps it's alright.

"Let me take you home, get you some medicine, maybe something to eat."

Hannibal shakes his head, "No, Will, I'm quite alright."

"No, you're not."

"Will,"

Will interrupts him, "Stop, let me help you--take care of you."

Hannibal is  _ too _ sick to have the energy to argue--nor does he truly want to, he wants to be taken care of by Will. If he's going to show any ounce of vulnerability to anyone's he would like it to be Will. So instead of saying, "No." He simply nods and pushes himself up from his chair. Crosses the room to his desk, turns the lamp off, grabs his jacket and turns to Will--waiting to see what he will do.

Will picks up his own jacket and holds out his hand.

"Keys." He speaks softly, as if somehow he knew Hannibal's head had begun to throb.

Hannibal does not hesitate to reach into his pocket and drop the keys to his office, his Bentley and his home into Will's hand.

What he doesn't expect however is Will's hand to rest on his lower back as he leads him outside. Hannibal feels dizzy--from his illness or Will's touch, he's unsure.

"Do you have any medicine at home?" Will asks as he starts the Bentley.

"No." Hannibal says quietly--almost ashamedly, he's a doctor he should have the proper medications to take care of himself, and he certainly shouldn't  _ need _ Will to care for him. But he wants this, wants Will, he's wanted Will longer than he's willing to admit.

Will doesn't say anything until they reach the pharmacy, "I'll be right back." He climbs out of the car and darts into the store.

Hannibal rests his forehead on the cool glass of the car window and waits.

Will is back in less than five minutes.

He's carrying a gray bag that Hannibal cannot see the contents of--though he expects it to be some cold/flu pills and perhaps some electrolyte replenishing drinks.

The drive to Hannibal's home is quiet, and thankfully not tense.

Again Will's hand goes to his lower back as they walk inside--maybe it's the fever making Hannibal delirious, or maybe it's wishful thinking--he doesn't risk questioning it either way.

"Are you hungry?" Will asks as he locks the door behind them.

Hannibal almost says no, but his stomach chooses that exact moment to grumble, his cheeks tinge pink with embarrassment--a fact he will vehemently deny and blame on the fever later. "Yes." He says sheepishly.

"I can't say I can make anything near as good as that  _ chicken soup _ you made for me, but I'm sure I can fix something up."

"Anything is fine, Will. Thank you." Just knowing that it was made by Will for him, will make it the most delicious thing he's ever eaten.

Will leads Hannibal to the kitchen, "I want you to take some medicine and then go lie down, I'll bring your food to you when it's done."

Hannibal does  _ not _ like food being eaten anywhere other than the kitchen or dining room, but he doesn't argue.

Will hands Hannibal two teal colored oblong gel capsules and some water.

He takes them without hesitation, and follows Will's instructions to go to lie down. Will hadn't said to change out of his suit, but he puts on a soft red sweater and obnoxious red striped pajama pants.

Hannibal dozes briefly and begins to feel marginally better, he can't say for sure without getting the thermometer, but he believes his fever breaks, or at the very least is vastly reduced.

Will enters his room after a short time carrying a bowl and bottle of Gatorade.

"I wasn't sure what to make with the ingredients you have, but I managed some chicken and rice. I'm sure it's bland, but hopefully won't upset your stomach." He sets the bowl and the drink on the bedside table before helping Hannibal sit up, propped against the pillows.

"Do you need help?"

Hannibal nods before he even realizes it--he's just so drowsy.

Will smiles and brings a small spoonful to Hannibal's mouth. The food is bland as Will had said, but not overly so--the broth is simple and light, the rice is tender, the chicken, while not Hannibal's preferred protein, tastes relatively good, though it's no silky chicken that's for sure. He eats slowly, being spoon fed by Will the entire time. When the bowl is empty, he's nearly asleep.

"You rest, I'll be back in a little bit." Will brushes the hair from Hannibal's forehead and pulls the blankets up around him before leaving. Hannibal falls asleep to the faint sounds of Will downstairs.

\--

When Hannibal wakes up, it's to Will gently shaking his shoulder--his bedroom is dark and only faint slivers of moonlight filter in between the curtains. "You need to take your next dose of medicine." Will's voice is soft and deep, it nearly lulls him right back to sleep.

"I need you to sit up, you need to take your next dose of medicine."

Hannibal nods slowly, pushing himself into an upright position. Will hands him two more of the same pills and the bottle of Gatorade. He swallows the pills easily before leaving back against the headboard.

"What time is it?" He  _ could _ look to the clock on his bedside table, but he wishes to hear Will speak again.

"Just after midnight."

"And you're still here?" It's a statement but also a question--he cannot believe Will is still here, still taking care of him.

"I told you I would take care of you." There's an edge to Will's tone that Hannibal's medicated brain cannot discern. "Will you let me  _ take care _ of you, Dr. Lecter?"

"You already are." Hannibal murmurs.

"Do you need to use the bathroom?"

Hannibal nods but before he can try to get up, Will takes his hand, "Let me help you." He leads Hannibal into the master bathroom. "Are you dizzy? Do you need to sit?"

"No, I'm alright, Will, thank you."

Will's hands go to the waistband of Hannibal's pants, he pulls them down slightly and takes Hannibal's soft cock into his hand and aims for the toilet bowl.

Hannibal is  _ too _ shocked to say anything. Urinating with Will's fingers wrapped around him is more difficult than he could've imagined, it's a good thing he's too sick and medicated and embarrassed to become aroused.

How does one explain they've got an erection while their  _ friend _ \--if that is what Will sees them as--takes care of them when they're sick?

Will let's go of him for a moment to wash his hands, after pulling Hannibal's pants back up, before wrapping his arms around Hannibal's waist--as if Hannibal cannot support himself--and leading him back to bed.

He pulls the blankets up, "Do you need any help falling back to sleep?"

Hannibal knows he should say no, but he  _ doesn't want _ to say no. "If you wouldn't mind, some company may help." Will smiles in the dark of the room, before sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Should I just sit here so you're not alone or would you rather I tell you a story." Will teases.

Hannibal yawns, eyelids dropping as the medicine kicks in again. Against his better judgement he asks, "Would you lay with me?"

Will's expression becomes something Hannibal cannot figure out--maybe it's the medication, or the darkness of the room. "Of course, though this may be crossing the line of professionalism."

"We've already crossed many lines, haven't we?"

Will smiles, softly, he stand kicks his shoes off, rounds the bed and climbs on top of the blankets.

Just having Will near to him is  _ soothing _ in a way--perhaps it reminds him of his childhood and sharing a bed with little Mischa when she was sick or had a bad dream.

\--

The next time Hannibal wakes up it is not to Will's soft voice coaxing him awake to take his medication, he is awoken by Will's arms wrapped tightly around him, legs entwined, head on Hannibal's chest--if Hannibal had to guess he'd say it's Will's hair against his nose that wakes him.

Hannibal has never been one to cling or  _ cuddle  _ during the night, perhaps Will initiated it--either way Hannibal does not try to move away. His head is still fuzzy from the medication and his illness, but he's level headed enough to  _ know _ that he wants this, and that on some subconscious level Will does as well.

Hannibal settles himself, and drifts back to sleep.

\--

The next time Hannibal wakes up it's to Will stroking his cock. He groans, voice quiet rough from sleep and sickness. "What are you doing?"

" _ Taking care _ of you."

He stops for a moment, leans across Hannibal and picks up another pill packet and the almost empty bottle of Gatorade, "Take your next dose, please."

Hannibal is stunned--tired and sick and shocked at Will's behavior, but it is not unwanted. He sits up slightly and takes the pills, chases them with an extra gulp of Gatorade before setting the empty bottle onto the nightstand.

Will pushes Hannibal back down to the bed. His hand slides beneath Hannibal's pajama pants, his fingers wrap around Hannibal's semi-errect cock again.

"Will, wait."

"Shh, Dr. Lecter, let me take care of you." He shushes Hannibal as he begins to stroke again.

Hannibal just shuts up and let's it happen, he wants this, and Will clearly wants to  _ do _ this. He begins to feel drowsy again after a short time, but keeps his eyes open--he's not going to fall asleep and  _ miss _ this. 

He pushes Hannibal's pants down to his thighs. Will's head rests on Hannibal's chest as he jerks him off--it feels very  _ intimate _ .

Hannibal just lies back and  _ enjoys _ , he feels relaxed and despite the congestion he breathes easily. Soft sighs and quiet moans tumble from his lips as Will touches his cock, thumb rubbing against the wet head as he does so. "Will," he tries again only to be shushed softly again. Hannibal is get close--pleasure building in his belly, testicles draw up closer to his body.

Will must  _ sense _ or somehow  _ know  _ how close he is, "Does it feel good, doctor? Are you going to come for me?"

The noise Hannibal makes is a mixture between a whine and growl.

"Come for me, Dr. Lecter."

His cock twitches against Will's fingers, short spurts of warm, wet cum coat Will's fingers, his own groin and lower belly. Cum smears into the sheet that covers Hannibal's body. Hannibal pants as Will strokes him through his orgasm, until he becomes too over sensitive and weakly grabs at Will's wrist.

"Now you rest some more, Dr. Lecter." He tries to climb from the bed but Hannibal clings to him.

"You don't need to leave, Will." He's breathless, and sounds congested.

"You'll be alright, Dr. Lecter. I'll go make you something for breakfast."

"No, stay."

"Let me wash my hands then get a washcloth to clean you up first."

Hannibal nods, his eyes slip closed and reopen when Will pulls the sheet and blanket back, exposing his sticky, warm skin to the cool air. He strips the sheet off the bed, leaving only the blanket.

He gently wipes Hannibal clean before pulling his pants back up. He takes the soiled sheet and washcloth to the bathroom before slipping beneath the blanket next to Hannibal. He lays his head on Hannibal's chest again.

Neither speak and before he knows it Hannibal drifts off again.

\--

The sun is bright where it shines through the curtains, Hannibal is alone in bed--he momentarily wonders if everything that happened was a fever dream, but no it couldn't be, there is no sheet between himself and the blanket.

He still feels sick, but definitely better than the previous day. The house sounds quiet around him--Will must've left. He glances to the clock, it's nearly eleven thirty, he's late for work--already missed his first two appointments.

Hannibal pushes himself up and heads for the shower, he's in and out in less than ten minutes. He brushes his teeth a dresses quickly. He rushes down the stairs, he stops dead in his tracks when he reaches the bottom--he can hear Will softly singing from the kitchen.

"Will?"

"Oh, you're up already? Damn. I was going to bring you brunch soon, it's almost finished."

"I appreciate the gesture, but I have to be heading into the office now."

"I may have gone back to your office and called everyone on your appointment list for today and canceled."

"You did what? That's private information." He  _ should _ be angry, but truthfully he is relieved--he still does not feel well enough to go.

"I was only trying to help, Dr. Lecter."

Hannibal sighs, "You did help, thank you, Will. I hadn't expected you to still be here."

"Do you  _ remember _ what happened between us?"

"I do."

"And are you okay with with happened?"

"If you're asking if I consented to what happened, yes, I did.

"You were under the effects of NyQuil, you could barely keep your eyes open."

"Will, may I be honest with you?"

"You've lied to me and manipulated me so much, how can I be sure you're going to be honest?"

"Will, I do not dwell on regrets in life, but if I could go back, I would change what transpired between us."

Will nods, but does not speak.

"I realized early on there was an attraction between us." He has to pause, he sneezes, the speaks again, "I knew a bond formed between us when we saved Abigail,"

"No, do not bring her into this."

"Apologies. However I knew there was a bond between us and it only grew on my side, I cannot say how you felt or how you are feeling now, but based on the way you were so adamant about taking care of me, I can draw my own conclusions."

"We are not friends."

Hannibal inhales sharply, "Then you may see yourself out of my home and I will write a referral for you if you'd like to continue  _ having conversations  _ with a psychiatrist."

"Hannibal, I didn't mean."

Will so rarely uses his first name, it causes Hannibal to pause. "Didn't mean what, Will? You were very clear when you told me the light of friendship wouldn't touch us for a million years."

"That was before I  _ saw _ you, I felt betrayed then, and you did betray me, you framed me for murders you committed."

"Do you have a point, or are you trying to upset me more?"

"I was taking care of you because you weren't going to take care of yourself, you're sick, you had a fever and you," Will shakes his head, "We are not friends, but I do not wish you to die from a fucking cold."

"Are you sure about that?" Hannibal sniffles. "Because it seems to me your life would be much better without me in it."

"I'm sure, I don't want you to die, not when I finally find you interesting."

"Then tell me, Will, what do you want?"

Will pours a cup of coffee for Hannibal--casual as if they're not in the midst of a disagreement. "Truthfully, I'd like to fuck you."

Hannibal coughs twice, "But?"

Will sets the cup on the counter and this time two orange oblong gel capsules and slides them towards Hannibal. "Take your meds. Because that cough right there is why I'll wait. I wouldn't want to catch my own cold back."

He takes a drink and nearly chokes on his coffee at Will's confession, "You exposed me to this illness?" He sputters a bit then take the pills.

"I didn't  _ know _ you would catch it. Though, if I'm being honest, I'm glad you did."

"Excuse me?" Hannibal prickles.

Will rounds the counter and steps up to Hannibal, "I like seeing you so  _ human _ so vulnerable." Will smirks, "Hannibal, you let me hold your cock while you pissed, you let me jerk you off and cuddle you, you can't act so tough and inhuman with me."

Hannibal will later blame the illness and the medication, "I love you, you stubborn man."

Will's expression softens, "Aw, Dr. Lecter, you love me?" Will coos.

"Yes, I do, love you, Will."

"Oh to hell with it." Will leans in and presses his lips to Hannibal's. This kiss is barely more than their lips being pressed together, but it's  _ enough _ . "Now, let's get you some breakfast, then out of this shit and back into bed."

"An excellent idea, mylimasis."

**Author's Note:**

> Wanna send me a prompt? Check the pinned post on my [Tumblr](https://laynavile.tumblr.com/) and send 'em in.


End file.
